


Two First Kisses

by ohnoitsthatgirl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inexperienced Sherlock, M/M, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoitsthatgirl/pseuds/ohnoitsthatgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out with friends at a pub, John is dared to kiss the next person to walk in, regardless of who it is.  He agrees.  The next person to walk in is Sherlock.  John laughs about it and kisses him, but Sherlock gets all flustered and quiet and leaves. When John gets home later, he finds Sherlock is angry with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two First Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following unfilled kink meme prompt from years ago:
> 
> John is out drinking with some friends, and they end up playing a kissing dare game. John is dared to kiss the next person to walk into the bar, regardless of who it is. He agrees. The next person to walk in is…Sherlock. John laughs about it and kisses Sherlock. Then Sherlock gets all flustered and quiet and leaves. When John gets home later, he finds Sherlock is angry with him. When pressed, he reveals that was his first kiss, and John took it for a drunken dare. John feels TERRIBLE.
> 
> Something about this idea I adored, and when I realized it was never filled, I had to do it. This is my first Sherlock fanfiction and is not beta-ed or britpicked. That being said, enjoy!

“Sherlock! Are you home? I’m heading out!” John called out the seemingly vacant flat.

He didn’t know where Sherlock was, but it wasn’t uncommon for the man to go missing for hours without a word spoken John’s way. He will never forget the time in which Sherlock had left unexpectedly mid-experiment and failed to respond to any of John’s texts or calls. He had worked himself into a panic, eventually calling Lestrade and demanding the DI help him locate Sherlock. At eleven o’clock that night, Sherlock walked back in casually, looking at a pacing John with a rare look of confusion.

“Why are you pacing?” he had asked. John had jumped, startled, before throwing a fit at the detective, who had decided on impulse to just go catch a murderer alone and unarmed.

This time, John was already running a bit late to meet his friends, so rather than going on some wild chase, John threw on his coat and picked up his wallet. Before leaving, he scribbled a note on an errant piece of paper and taped it to the fridge.

_Sherlock,  
Going out drinking at The Bar with some mates from uni. You’re welcome to join if you see this. Don’t know when I’ll be back._

~~~

A few hours later, John was drunk, and enjoying the time out with former classmates from med school he had forgotten he missed. They were all terribly boring (compared to Sherlock everyone was), but it was good to act like reckless twenty-somethings again and fool around. One of the guys, Alex, joked about how old they had become, and propositioned a series of kiss dares in a game they once played every free weekend in an attempt to get girls.

“Alright,” Alex started, clearly inebriated already, “Let’s spice things up tonight! Johnny-boy, how ‘bout this? Next person to walk in this pub, you snog, regardless of who it is.”

John laughed, slightly high-pitched and more out of shock than anything else. “No way, man!”

“Oh, don’t be a softie! Come on, just like old times!”

John grunted, still chuckling. He looked around the pub a moment, as if someone would tell whether to do it or not, before finally agreeing to the dare. “Alright, fine, what could it hurt?” he said mostly to himself. He was drunk enough to be slurring his words faintly, but not wasted by any means.

“Ah, that’s the old spirit! Next person, okay?” Alex yelled.

John groaned in the most dramatic way he could, wavering is his seat and downing another shot of whiskey. “What if it’s a bloke? Or a little old lady?”

“You already agreed, no backing out now!”

“Fuck,” John muttered as he headed toward the door. “If I get arrested for sexual assault, you arseholes better bail me out!” He yelled to the group of men watching excitedly. _Like a pig for slaughter,_ John thought.

John wasn’t sure if it was a lucky miracle or a miserable curse that the club, which had been busy with people coming and going all night, became void of all incoming customers after he had taken the dare. John stood there begrudgingly for nearly five minutes, waiting for anyone to walk in as his mates proceeded to stare holes into the back of his head. Finally, the door opened and the bell on the door rang, inaudible to anyone not standing directly next to it over the loud music. Time seemed to slow down in the moments he waited to see the person on the other side of the door that he had to kiss, and it felt like some dramatic made-for-telly movie John secretly watched every once in a while when Sherlock wasn’t home. But the moment passed soon enough when the door fully opened and revealed the person behind it. It was a man, tall and incredibly thin with dark curls, and stunning eyes and sharp cheekbones and so, _shit,_ Sherlock.

John laughed in disbelief. Of course, of course this would happen to him. John was most definitely not gay, but there had always been something so intriguing about Sherlock that attracted him, despite him being male and John definitely not gay. Did he mention the not gay-ness? Because John definitely was not.

“Oh hi, John, were you waiting-” Sherlock tried to say, but John cut him off. He was pushed backwards against the wall, mouth against mouth, John was kissing him. The shorter man was up on his tiptoes for a few long seconds before pulling away from Sherlock with a laugh. His friends were whistling and cat-calling behind them.

“Ha, sorry mate. They dare me to snog the next person to walk in, and that happened to be you.”

Sherlock, always so calm and collected and too cool for his own good, looked shocked. Utterly shocked into a state of paralysis. He looked horrified, all wide eyes and shaking hands.

“Oh, ah well, right. I’ll just be off then,” Sherlock said, uncharacteristically awkward and unsure. He turned to open the door.

John grabbed his friend’s arm. “No, Sherlock, I was just messing around, you really don’t have to go. Come get a drink with me!”

“No really, I’m not sure why I came anyway. I’ll see you later, John,” and Sherlock was out the door with a turn of his head and the swish of his dark coat behind him. 

John sauntered back over to the bar where his former classmates sat and all slapped him on the back affectionately.

“Hey, I didn’t think you were really gonna do it, chap,” another member of the group, John was too drunk to remember his name as they were never really friends, said. “Nice going!”

“I think you scared him off! That was Sherlock, then?” Alex asked.

John nodded, “Yeah it was. I feel kind of bad, that was unlike him,” John said.

“Oh, I’m sure you just startled the guy. From what you’ve told me, he probably decided he’d rather go do some weird experiment at your flat.”

“You’re right, I bet he did.” 

John laughed it off. The guys stayed at The Bar for another hour after the dare-gone-wrong, and by the time the group separated, John had almost entirely forgotten the kiss.

~~~

John was forced to remember everything when he walked into the flat after catching a cab home, however. He walked in to find an angry looking Sherlock aggressively playing the violin. John hadn’t heard him play it before, so he must have come up with it in the hour and a half he was alone before John got arrived back.

 _He only composes when he’s angry or sad,_ a voice in John’s head said. He didn’t particularly want to deal with an angry Sherlock or a sad Sherlock.

“Hey there! I’m back,” John said in a tone of voice he hoped was calming.

“Yes, John, I can very well see that. Thank you for alerting me to such a mundane fact,” Sherlock said monotonously, not bothering to even look at John.

Great, an angry Sherlock.

“Are you mad at me? I only kissed you for a dare, I’m sorry I put you in a position like that. We can just forget it happened.”

Sherlock scoffed. “I don’t know how your tiny little brain works, but I can’t just forget it, John,” Sherlock spat, but he became less convincing as he ended his sentence, just sounding sad.

“Did I really upset you that much? I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” John said.

“Just go to bed, John, we don’t need to talk about it.”

“No, I’m not going to go to sleep knowing you’re angry with me. Tell me, please Sherlock, why did that make you so angry?”

Sherlock sighed dramatically, then responded through gritted teeth, “I said, I don’t want to talk about it!”

“It was nothing! I was bloody drunk!” John yelled, becoming angry himself at how impossible Sherlock could be. 

“That is the problem!” Sherlock bellowed, loud enough that Mrs. Hudson was surely wondering what was going on in 221B. He looked slightly startled at himself, and quickly retreated to him bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

John stood in the centre of the living room, staring at the spot in which Sherlock was only just standing. _What?_ He thought. _What the hell did Sherlock mean by that?_ John remained in the exact same spot for another three minutes, trying to be analytical like his eccentric flatmate and figure out what the hell Sherlock meant. _Does he have feelings for me? Did he feel like he was taken advantage of? For god’s sake, this is Sherlock! He doesn’t feel. It was just a bloody kiss!_

He was so conflicted. He was also incredibly tired, and the alcohol was beginning to wear off, making him even less inclined to fix this mess he had somehow gotten himself into. Why didn’t Sherlock just laugh it off like he did? But as easy as it would have been to put this whole thing off until tomorrow, John’s guilty conscience won out.

~~~

He took a deep breath to calm himself, knowing that it was hard for his friend to show his emotions. He most likely was merely upset in some capacity for some unknown reason, and not purposefully trying to be a pain in John’s arse.

He approached Sherlock’s door and knocked gently three times. “Sherlock, are you okay?” he asked.

John could have sworn he heard a sound alarmingly similar to a choked sob.

“What part of, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’, is so incredibly problematic for you to comprehend?”

John sighed. “Sherlock, I know you don’t, but you’re clearly really bothered by this and I don’t know what to do. Can I please come in?”

There was a pause in which John heard shuffling towards the corner John knew he kept the rubbish bin, before the squeak of the bed as Sherlock sat back down. “Fine.”

John tentatively opened the door and saw Sherlock laying on the bed, as if he didn’t care about any of the events that transpired in the last few hours. His only tell was his eyes, rimmed with red and slightly puffy. John sat on the bed next to Sherlock. The pair were quiet for a few uncomfortable moments before Sherlock finally spoke.

“That was my first kiss.”

John suddenly took another deep inhale of breath. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, I know, _poor pathetic Sherlock, a grown man who’s never kissed anyone, how sad_ ,” Sherlock said in a mocking voice, yet he was mocking himself.

“No, that’s not at all what I was thinking,” John said. Sherlock looked at him, analyzing, trying to see whether he was telling the truth. He continued, “I was thinking, _poor beautiful, brilliant, obnoxious Sherlock, I just took that man’s first kiss as a drunken dare._ I am so sorry, Sherlock. Oh my god. I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sherlock said, with what John assumed was meant to be a dismissive gesture. It looked more like he was trying to kill a fly, but now was not the moment to laugh at him. “Whatever, it isn’t even a big deal. I shouldn’t care. Normal thirty-six year olds are not lame virgins who’ve never even snogged anyone before.”

John was now on the verge of tears himself. “No, you should care. As much as you want me and everyone else to believe you are a robot devoid of emotion, you’re not. You’re human, and an amazing one at that. You’ve never been one for normal, anyway. A first kiss is a big deal, I still remember mine. Yours deserved to be special. God, I feel so bad, Sherlock. I’m sorry.”

John really did feel like he had kicked a puppy. Repeatedly. Here was this handsome, brilliant man who despised being vulnerable opening up to him after he took away a huge life moment.

“John, stop. I’ll get over it. It’s fine,” he said, in an attempt to console his friend.

_This is so fucked up. I should be consoling him, not the other way around. I feel terrible_ , John thought.

Sherlock willingly was exposed for him. Sherlock didn’t refuse to talk to him ever again or kick John out of the flat. Sherlock deserved for John to take a risk for him.

“Sherlock, what if I make it up to you?”

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asked.

“Well, I know you use your mind palace to delete useless information. That kiss was useless. I’ll give you a real first kiss,” John said. He rolled onto Sherlock and laid overtop the taller man. 

Sherlock looked nervous. “Okay,” he whispered.

John lowered his lips onto to Sherlock’s, gently pressing against them. He was slow and careful as he licked around the world’s only consulting detective’s lips, and moved his hands into the curly dark hair. Sherlock didn’t know what to do with his own hands, fidgeting a bit before deciding to rest them lightly against John’s lower back. The doctor smiled against his mouth in an encouraging way, and Sherlock began to rub his hands up and down his friend’s-was he still a friend? boyfriend?-back. John deepened the kiss further, adding tongue and making Sherlock let out an unexpected, sexy mix between a moan and a whimper. When John finally pulled away for air, he smiled. Sherlock smiled back.

“How was that for a first kiss, then?” John asked.

Sherlock continued to beam. “Perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am considering adding a second chapter to this about what happens after I left off. If that is something you would enjoy reading, please let me know! Also, as I'm relatively new to the fandom, I don't have anyone to ask to beta or britpick my work. If you are interested in either or both, I'd be thrilled. 
> 
> Positive comments and constructive criticism are welcomed.


End file.
